Ice
by EntirelyInsane
Summary: Javert doesn't seem to realize that the River Seine is frozen. All I can say is "Poor Javert. Poor, poor Javert." Please R&R!


**Here is yet another suicide variation (now that sounds kinda strange, huh?…). More of a parody. You see, even though it's technically June 7, 1832, at about 1 AM, in my Miserablia, rivers can still freeze during that time of year. And poor, dear Javert doesn't seem to realize this. Heehee…**

**DISCLAIMER: The usual, I don't own Monsieur l'Inspector or JVJ…now enjoy!**

**Ice**

The freezing air bit into Javert as he took off his hat and laid it on the parapet. There was no reason, he decided resolutely, absolutely no reason to go on now. All his beliefs were shattered; the world was inside out and upside-down. There was but one path to take now –

The River Seine twisted on endlessly under him. That is, Javert was quite sure it did. He couldn't actually see it, but he heard it clearly. In fact, the sound of the water seemed to be all he could hear now. As if in a trance, Javert climbed up the parapet and stood, prepared to leap into the river. Even drowning seemed better than living now. Javert took one last look at this world, then, with a deep, determined breath, he threw himself off the parapet.

He seemed to fall in slow motion. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and all his muscles were tense, expecting to hit the water with a splash.

Then, Javert did hit the water. But not with a splash.

_SMACK!!_

Pain shot through Javert's legs as they met the surface of the water, which was surprisingly hard and very painful. However, the water was, equally surprisingly, not wet. It was very cold, though. _Oh, the pain…_

With a moan, Javert picked himself off the surface of the river, his whole frame aching. That fall, he thought, had not been part of the bargain. When he was in a standing position, he glared down at the river. So this was what he got? Javert, shaking his fist at the sky, all but cried out in fury. So the river wouldn't even let him die? Was the world so determined to make him miserable? For God's sake, the cursed river wouldn't even let him drown!

With some difficulty, Javert scaled the parapet beck up to the top of the bridge. It was a very cold night; his fingers froze while hanging on to a ledge. At long last, however, he made it to the top, and fell over face-first, landing on the cobblestones. Then, standing, Javert glared back down at the river. Stubbornly, he thought, "The river will not stop me. I _shall _escape from this world, and I'll do it here!"

Bless his soul; the poor inspector did not seem to realize that the river was frozen.

Javert tenaciously climbed back up the parapet, thinking that, perhaps, this time he aught to dive headfirst. He soon decided against it, though, and, throwing a nasty look at the stars, he leapt towards the water once more.

A moment of exhilaration…closer…"_Oh, yes, I'll make it now!"_…closer…

_SMACK!!_

When the water and Javert collided (again…), it made a lovely, satisfactory thud. The pain, however, was much the same for the disillusioned inspector, and he laid spread-eagled on the Seine's surface, moaning piteously.

Then, thinking it would be best to get up in the event that anyone chanced to stroll by and glance at the river, Javert attempted to get up.

…Attempted to get up…

…Attempted to get up…

"_Why can't I get up?"_ Javert cursed under his breath. Now the river was arresting him!

Javert tried to lift his face again. No luck. His cheek felt rather like an elastic waistband that had been stretched too far; it was stuck fast. The inspector became frantic. "No, no, no…I've got to get up…" he muttered, the beginnings of hysteria in his voice. He pulled somewhat harder, which caused his cheek to be somewhat more painful.

Harder…silent grimace.

Harder…little moan.

Harder…"Oww…"

Harder…"_Oww!"_

Harder…"Oh, help!"

_Harder_…"NO! NOT THE SIDEBURNS!"

With a final, valiant, and very painful wrench, Javert broke free of the water, left with a very numb cheek and a strange imprint upon the river's surface. Unsticking the rest of himself was a simple matter, for there was no more bare skin.

When he was finally all detached and standing, Javert took a step, intending to walk down the river until he found an embankment to climb up on, since scaling the parapet for a second time was quite out of the question. To his shock, his feet flew out from under him, and he landed very hard and painfully on the river.

Determinedly, he managed to stand again, though the Seine was strangely slippery. He took a smaller, much more careful step, his arms held out for balance, his hands clenching, anticipating another fall. To his relief, there was none; he successfully took a step.

So, having found a way to walk upon the surface of the water, he began his trek down the river.

Javert proceeded like a baby learning to walk, tottering absurdly. He was painfully aware of this, and thoroughly embarrassed by it. He turned a very festive shade of red, except for his lips, which turned an equally festive shade of purple from the cold. But, with a tenacious grimace, he continued, slipping and sliding.

All of a sudden, the river gave way beneath his feet.

With a yell, Javert was dumped into the water. The icy waves crashed over his head, engulfing him. The surface of the river had been too weak there to support his weight. Gasping, the inspector struggled to keep his head up enough to breathe. Oh, it was _freezing._ Literally freezing. Jagged chunks of ice floated around; one collided with Javert's left hand, leaving a bloody gash.

Javert, who no longer had any intention of drowning, flailed his arms wildly, crying frantically for someone, _anyone_, to help him.

"Help! I'm drow…" Javert's head slipped under again.

Finally, just before the current carried him under, the now - very near to - hypothermic inspector's hand struck against a large piece of ice sticking out, and he grabbed it feverishly, hanging on to it with a death grip. Then, using all the strength he had left, Javert pulled with all his might, slowly, agonizingly dragging himself out of the Seine.

Once he was out of the water, Javert collapsed onto the ice – we shall now refer to it as ice, rather than "the surface of the water", though it is not certain whether Javert was yet aware of that fact. He lay, utterly and completely exhausted and shivering with uncontrollable violence.

_"I'm-m g-going to d-die now-w," _he thought matter-of–factly (he was so cold that his teeth chattered even in his thoughts). Indeed, he could feel his heart slowing down. It was simply too cold. And he couldn't stop shaking.

So this is how the world wanted him to die. Drowning wasn't bad enough; he was to be half-drowned, then frozen to death. Javert stared resolutely at the sky, feeling terribly alone in what surely were his last moments. The chasm he had opened in the ice looked very menacing. The jagged ice was his only company.

No! Javert, even in his weakened state, suddenly felt the vibrations of footsteps on the ice under him. He could, however, only lie still, shaking.

A hand grabbed him roughly by the shoulder and dragged him away from the gap in the ice. Javert closed his eyes in misery. It was, judged by the lack of gentleness, nothing more than a pickpocket or cutthroat. What a grand way to die. At least drowning was somewhat dignified; only the fish saw your last expression.

To his surprise, however, Javert was, once he had been dragged away, pulled into a sitting position. Then a low voice spoke by his ear, insistent and instructive:

"Javert, for God's sake, you're killing yourself. Get your wet clothes off!" Hands pulled at the collar of Javert's soaking coat.

With some difficulty, the inspector turned his head to see his rescuer.

Jean Valjean.

_"Of course,"_ thought Javert, as he numbly complied with Jean Valjean's orders and allowed himself to be stripped of his coat, vest, and cravat. _"Isn't it always Valjean who saves me? I should have known."_

Jean Valjean left Javert's shirt and trousers on for courtesy, then shrugged off his own coat and wrapped it around the shaking inspector. Praying he didn't have hypothermia, the old man rubbed him rather roughly till his shivers seemed to subside.

Once he had accomplished that, Jean Valjean picked up one of Javert's arms and threw it over his own shoulders. He then passed his arm around the inspector and heaved him up.

"Come, Javert. I will take you home. You need to warm up. Look at you!" he exclaimed as Javert suddenly trembled violently, his whole frame shaken. "You're very ill. Come now, quickly. _Mon Dieu_! – if we can only make it in time!"

Javert was then dragged along the surface of the ice to the bank of the river, being quite incapable of supporting his own weight. He leaned heavily on Jean Valjean's shoulder, his face chalk-white and his lips now very near blue. Once they reached the embankment, Jean Valjean let the inspector go, thinking that he might like to climb up himself - he knew how Javert was sometimes seized with sudden dignity spasms that would prevent him from being dragged up from the river. Javert, however, collapsed immediately onto the ice, like a puppet with his strings cut. Perseveringly, he started crawling on his hands and knees, his poor bare hands (one of which, it will be remembered, had a nasty cut and was still bleeding badly, staining the ice around it red) trembling with the cold. He made it, by some miracle, about five feet up the hill, then slid down, stopping at Jean Valjean's feet.

Jean Valjean looked down at him pityingly, then, untying his own cravat, he wrapped it around Javert's injured hand. This done, he scooped him up and carried him up the embankment, with him only weakly protesting.

Once they reached the top, Jean Valjean set Javert down again. "There you are, monsieur," he said courteously. "I know you don't like to be carried like a weakling." He smiled to himself, wondering what Javert would do. Both men knew perfectly well that Javert couldn't currently support his own weight.

Javert looked down rather plaintively at his shivering frame, then back up at Jean Valjean. "On second though," he said, reddening the slightest bit, "it might be best if you did."

**Did you like it? Please review!!**


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